Chapter 1
During the orchestra's recruitment session, Sophie Brooks, a newly joined young recruit, suddenly pointed toward the grand piano sitting beside my fiancé.
"I've heard only your wife has ever been allowed to play this piano. May I give it a try?" she said gently.
Leonard Sterling answered with a single word, no pause or hesitation in his tone, "Yes."
Every pair of eyes in the room swiveled straight to me in an instant.
All ensemble members knew the whole story well. I had stood by Leonard's side for seven years as his long-standing girlfriend, walking the road alongside him from utter obscurity to widespread critical acclaim.
Even so, access to this precious heirloom piano left by his late mother had always been strictly off-limits to me.
As I was stuck beneath stares brimming with sympathy and quiet curiosity alike, a cold truth settled softly over my heart.
This lengthy relationship had run dry at last, and parting ways was the only sensible choice left.
*****
After the recruitment event, the orchestra manager approached me.
"Aubrey, you can drop the piano duet with Leonard—no need to practice anymore. Leonard asked Sophie Brooks, the new recruit, to play with him instead," he said.
I had anticipated this outcome long before the call arrived, yet sharp sorrow still gnawed steadily at my chest.
I offered no verbal reply, merely nodding my head in quiet acceptance.
That evening, I dialed an old number I had not contacted in far too long.
"Ethan Grant, you once swore you'd hold our wedding ceremony at the Aurelia Symphony Grand Hall. Does that promise still stand today?"
Sleep lingered thick in Ethan's tone on the other end of the line, nasal and drowsy from being jolted awake mid-slumber.
"Am I dreaming?" Ethan mumbled, still half asleep.
"You don't have to say ye—" I told him.
A heavy, thunderous crash cut my words short.
It sounded like he'd just tumbled out of bed, and suddenly his voice was bursting with excitement.
"It counts! It always counts! Anytime! Anywhere!" he shouted.
A faint, weary smile tugged at my lips then. The crushing weight of the day's miseries lightened ever so slightly with his earnest reply.
Leonard returned home soon afterward while I busied myself packing all my belongings into a suitcase.
He paid my preparations no mind whatsoever, yanking loose his formal necktie and tossing out a casual demand without a single glance my way.
"Pour me a glass of lemonade, will you? The new recruit welcome gathering at the orchestra dragged on endlessly. That young girl pestered me nonstop all night, and I've drunk far more alcohol."
A faint lipstick smudge stained crisp fabric at his collar. I stood motionless where I was, refusing to fulfill his request.
"Leonard, let's break up," I said.
He froze for a second, then finally noticed the suitcase at my feet.
He rubbed his temples, looking annoyed, but his eyes were still as captivating as ever.
Leonard said, "Is this because I let her play that piano?
"Can you stop being so petty? I was just trying to keep a talented musician in the orchestra.
Promising talent indeed. The girl had botched more than a dozen notes throughout a single brief performance.
He turned toward the bathroom without further discussion, his tone lazy and dismissive all the while. "Just make that lemonade quickly. Stop dwelling on pointless nonsense and overthinking everything."
"Leonard." My tone hardened with unbreakable finality. "I always planned to marry before turning thirty years old. That milestone has arrived for me now."
His footsteps froze rigid against the floorboards. The fragile patience he had clung to stubbornly shattered entirely within a heartbeat.
"Aubrey, how tiresome can your endless marriage nagging grow? You only make yourself look desperate and cheap in my eyes with this constant pressure.
"I've stated repeatedly. The orchestra is navigating a pivotal upward growth phase right now. I cannot waste precious focus on meaningless distractions at such a juncture."
Every harsh word sliced straight into my heart's softest spot.
Seven years of blood, sweat and tears had built this orchestra from nothing into what it was today.
Every new gig booked, every big investment secured came at the cost of my failing health, red warning flags blaring across my medical reports year after year.
All my sacrifices, and all I got called in return was cheap.
His precious time went freely to his beloved grand piano, or to a girl who'd joined the team less than twenty-four hours prior.
He fussed over whether her seat cushion was soft enough, asked how she'd enjoyed the welcome party.
Yet every single one of my needs got brushed off as boring, a waste of his attention.
I let out a long, tired breath and met his gaze head-on. "I'm worn out, Leonard. Pick one. Marry me, or let's split for good."
My ultimatum stripped away the last of his composure.
He ripped his tie off in one sharp motion and tossed it angrily across the couch cushions. "Fine then, break up. Suit yourself."
The steady rush of running water echoed from the bathroom moments later, and crushing sadness settled deep within me.
I'd always known I was never his first choice, that admirers had swarmed around him for years on end.
All I'd ever given him was unwavering loyalty, staying loyal through his poorest, most unknown days.
Guilt and moral obligation alone had stopped him from cutting me loose all these years.